Curves
by KellieKat
Summary: "Happy and heathy is a really good look for you."


**A/N: In addition to Criminal Minds, I'm also a big fan of NCIS fanfiction. O** **ne of my favorite characters is Tim McGee, played by the wonderful Sean Murray. Several years ago, Sean lost a lot of weight, which prompted many fanfic writers to pen their own takes on his transformation. I really enjoyed reading a few of these stories, but I couldn't help but notice that no such stories seem to be out there for Penelope, despite the fact that Kirsten Vangsness's weight loss was at least as dramatic as Sean's, so I decided to write my own. _Curves_ is meant to show my ideas about various characters' possible reactions to Penelope's weight loss. I mean absolutely no disrespect to Penelope or Kirsten; KV has always been gorgeous, both before and after losing some weight, and I hope I do this piece the justice it deserves. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it. -Kel**

* * *

When he first noticed the changes in his girlfriend, Kevin hadn't been quite sure what to think. They'd been together for years, but suddenly Penelope was a little different - her stomach was a little flatter, her hips a little smaller, and her legs a little slimmer than they'd been before. His girl had always been sexy as sin, but he had to admit that it had been exciting to explore her changing body. It wasn't that he preferred her one way or another - she was absolutely stunning no matter how much she weighed - but the changes in Penelope's shape and size had given him a chance to get to know his favorite body all over again.

Still, though, as he watched his girlfriend examine herself in her full-length mirror, apparently scrutinizing the way one of her usual favorite skirts was fitting rather loosely these days, he couldn't help but worry about what might have caused her sudden change. Penelope had always seemed confident in herself and happy with her appearance, and he had to make sure that was still the case. His stomach clenched with guilt at the thought. He knew he didn't tell her how beautiful she was as often as he probably should have, and any crisis of self-esteem on her part would certainly mean he'd failed miserably at his favorite job: reminding Penelope how amazing she was.

"Hey, uh, Penelope?" Kevin began uncertainly. He fiddled with the end of his purple tie briefly as he approached her, but then swallowed his nerves as best he could and said, "You know I think you're sexy, right?" She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes meeting his in the mirror since he was standing behind her, and he added softly, "I always have."

"Yeah, Kev, I know," Penelope assured him gently. His heart swelled at her sincere smile and the way her eyes shined at his compliment; he was so happy he could make her feel that way. Even so, he still had to be absolutely certain that everything was fine on her front.

"Plum Sauce, it's just, with all these changes, I mean," Kevin stammered, gesturing awkwardly as he spoke. Penelope gave the tiniest of smirks and turned around to watch her sweet boyfriend stammer through what was apparently a very difficult conversation for him. She'd known it was coming; she just hadn't imagined he'd be quite this nervous! It was kind of adorable, she decided, to see him so worried about saying something wrong.

"Are you - I mean, what happened?" Kevin asked. He took a deep breath, forced himself to look Penelope right in the eyes, and said, "Why did you suddenly feel like you needed to lose weight?"

Much to Kevin's surprise, Penelope smiles warmly and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug before answering. "It's been a long time coming," she finally said, and stepped back to look him in the eyes as she continued, "but it had nothing to do with you or anyone else. No one said anything that made me feel this way, and I know you think I'm beautiful," she assured him. With a tiny nod and a warm smile, she said, "I'm doing this for me."

Slowly but surely, a relieved and excited grin broke across Kevin's face. He leaned forward and gave Penelope a rare impromptu peck on the lips before saying, "Then I'm happy for you, Penelope. You deserve to feel good about your body, and to love it as much as I do." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Penelope giggled. "You know, I could certainly stand to be a little healthier myself," he remarked, suddenly nervous again. "Maybe this is something we could do together?"

A huge, stunned smile lit up Penelope's face, and shining tears pooled in her eyes behind her cat-eye frames. She nodded furiously, blinked a few times to keep the tears at bay, and whispered, "I'd like that."

* * *

"Good morning, pretty girl," Derek said with a brilliant smile as his favorite analyst joined him by the coffee maker.

"I'll show you a good morning, Hot Stuff," Penelope flirted, and batted her thick eyelashes as carefully poured coffee into her pink octopus mug.

The pair made typical Wednesday morning small talk as they fixed their coffee, until Penelope flashed a bright grin, said, " _Au revoir,_ my love," and headed for her office, her steps not faltering a single time despite her sky-high purple heels.

Derek's eyes were, as usual, fixed on Penelope's ample backside as she walked away, loving the gentle sway of her rounded hips. Lately, though, he couldn't help but notice that the sexy curve of her tush was not quite as _ample_ as he was accustomed to, and the sway in her usually thick hips was less pronounced these days. He knew she'd struggled with her body image occasionally, so after a minute or two he followed behind her to her office. He wanted to tell her how great she looked, and remind her how great she'd always looked.

Penelope was just booting up her systems when she felt rather than heard a familiar presence in her doorway. "Hey, Chocolate Thunder," she sighed without looking up. "We have a case?"

"What? Oh, no," Morgan assured her. He swung her door shut gently as he explained, "I just wanted to talk to you for a sec."

Penelope spun around quickly, wide-eyed at the sound of her office door clicking shut. She'd been working here for years, but she could count on one hand the number of times that door had been closed, and it had never been a good sign.

"Oh. Um, is everything okay?" Her voice raised an octave in concern and she felt her chest constrict nervously as she spoke.

When he saw the worry and outright fear on Penelope's face, Derek took her hands in his and gave them a reassuring squeeze as he said, "Everything is fine, Baby Girl." He waited for her breathing to even out before he smiled, took a step back, and explained gently, "I just wanted to say that you look great, Penelope. You've always looked great, but I know you've worked hard for this, and it's paying off. I'm proud of you."

Penelope fiddled a little uncomfortably with the hem of her sweater - one from the back of her closet that hadn't fit in a while - and smiled half-heartedly. "Thanks, Morgan," she muttered, her eyes not meeting his.

Derek's brow furrowed in confusion at her behavior. He'd thought she'd be pleased that he'd noticed and commented on her weight loss, but something was obviously wrong.

"Hey, what's going on, Penelope?" He asked gently.

She sighed and blinked contemplatively a few times before meeting her best friend's worried gaze. "I just don't want people to think I'm doing this for the wrong reasons, you know?"

"Not really," Derek admitted.

"This is about me, Derek," Penelope explained, "And I don't want anyone to think that it's not. I'm not working this hard just to conform to some dumb beauty standard. I'm never going to be an swimsuit model, and I wouldn't really even _want_ to look like that! I like my curves -" He grinned in agreement - "I just feel better about myself when I'm a little smaller, you know?"

Morgan was silent for a moment, thinking about what she'd said, and then grinned and purred, "For the record, I think you'd make a _great_ swimsuit model." Penelope giggled, and he wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders as he said, "Baby Girl, since when have you ever cared what the world thought of you? Just do what makes you happy, and anyone who has anything to say about it needs to get a life."

He was totally right, she realized, and a soft smile lit up her face. "Thank you, Super Agent. What would I ever do without you?" She asked, but he just shook his head before squeezing her shoulders and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, silly girl, and don't you ever forget it," Derek ordered as he headed for the door.

"Love you too," Penelope whispered.

* * *

"Morning, Garcia," Dr. Reid said with a smile as she _click-clacked_ into the FBI building.

"And a very good morning to you, my little genius," she quipped. When she didn't join him in front of the closed elevator doors, he turned over his shoulder to see the analyst heading for the stairs.

"Mind if I join you?" Spencer asked as he followed her through the door.

Penelope turned around in surprise, and smiled when she saw her scrawny teammate heading up the steps behind her. "Of course not," she said with a slightly uncertain grin. They made small talk for a while, wondering aloud where the BAU's latest case might be, but after the first two flights of stairs, Spencer was breathing too hard to carry on much conversation, so Garcia graciously fell silent.

"Man," Reid panted when the pair finally reached the fifth floor landing. "I'm . . . really out of . . . shape."

Penelope giggled. "Yeah, when I first started walking up, I had to take a break on the third floor and was still out of breath when I got up here, especially in these bad boys!" she confessed with a small smile and a deep blush as she gestured to her teal peep-toe wedges.

"You've come a long way, Penelope," Spencer remarked, his rare use of her first name not going unnoticed. "You're not even breathing hard. That's awesome."

"Well, thank you, boy genius," Garcia cooed with a flattered smile as she held the glass door to the bullpen open for the the young doctor, whose breathing was finally beginning to even out.

"You know, people tend to associate being thin with physical fitness," Reid pointed out, lacing his bony fingers together as he spoke, "But clearly that's not very accurate."

Penelope just murmured in agreement and was about to head to her office when Spencer called after her. "Hey, Garcia?" She turned around expectantly, and Reid blushed wildly as he said, "You um - it's just - happy and healthy is a really good look for you. I'm proud of you."

She smiled, whispered a "thank you", gave her young friend a quick but bone-crushing hug, and headed to her office with a huge grin on her face.

* * *

Garcia's stomach churned as she waited outside Agent Rossi's office. He'd asked to speak to her privately before she left for the weekend, and she just knew she was in trouble for _something_. She hadn't the slightest idea what she'd done wrong, but she was wracking her brain for any hints, feeling remarkably like she'd been called to the principal's office.

"Come in," he called from inside the small room, and Penelope's heart dropped to her feet as she stepped through the door. Rossi gestured to the chair opposite his desk, so she perched on the very edge of the seat, fidgeting uncomfortably and looking at everything and anything but Rossi's face.

"Hey, relax," he said gently, leaning forward across his large wooden desk. "You're not in trouble here, kitten."

"Oh, thank God," she breathed, earning a small chuckle from Rossi.

"I just wanted to make sure everything's okay," he explained. "You're looking really thin lately. Are you sick, or-?"

Penelope couldn't help the small smile that graced her lips at the older man's use of the word "thin". She knew he meant it relatively, but it was still a good feeling. "I'm perfectly fine, Rossi. The weight loss is totally intentional."

Dave leaned back in his chair silently, his expression unreadable until he said, "Then I'm really impressed!" His tone was one of genuine admiration, and with a sheepish grin he added, "You'll have to let me in on your secret sometime, Penelope. I haven't always had this pooch, you know." He patted his slightly protruding stomach and Garcia laughed.

"Just good old-fashioned diet and exercise, sir," she said with a genuine smile, then flashed him a teasing grin and added, "And I stopped drinking."

"Ah, _no,_ Bella!" Rossi exclaimed with hyperbolic distress. "If it means giving up scotch, it's not worth it." He stood up and headed for the door, flicking the lights off as he went, and Penelope followed him with a giggle.

"So, any big plans for this weekend?" the field agent inquired as the two made their way down to the main level of the bullpen.

"Actually, I'm going shopping!" Garcia trilled. Her face lit up at the thought, and Rossi smiled at her unbridled enthusiasm. "I haven't been this tiny since, like, high school, and all my clothes are falling off!"

"Wow," Dave said with a grin. "Have fun!" Penelope paused for a moment to search for something in her large purse, and he took advantage of the opportunity to discreetly pull a few large bills out of his leather wallet, knowing an FBI analyst's salary wasn't exactly conducive to buying a whole new wardrobe. When she looked up, he pressed the cash into her immaculately manicured hand and said, "Treat yourself, Penelope. You deserve it."

"Wha-but, sir!" Garcia exclaimed, her eyes wide in shock as she counted the bills in her hand.

"You're welcome!" Rossi called, and whistled happily all the way to his car.

* * *

When she bee-bopped into her office the following Monday morning, Garcia was in an absolutely fabulous mood. She'd beaten all the traffic on her commute that morning, her coffee was the perfect temperature, and best of all, she was wearing one of the totally fantastic new outfits she'd purchased on Saturday, including a skirt she'd fallen in love with but never would've been able to afford without Rossi's gift, and it was all in a smaller size than she'd worn in many, many years.

She was humming softly as she flicked on the lights in her lair and started her usual morning routine: she put her purse in one desk drawer, picked out a pen from another, set her coffee mug carefully on its perfectly aligned coaster, and booted up her machines. As she moved her desk chair back in order to reach her main monitor's power button, though, she noticed something sitting in her chair that she knew she hadn't left there. On top of a small pile of fabric was a note, handwritten in a small, neat script she recognized only vaguely:

 _ **Penelope-**_

 _ **Dave mentioned that yours might not be fitting quite right anymore, so I thought you could use a new one. The pink's not standard issue, but I "did a thing".**_

 _ **You look great, as always, and I add this accomplishment to my ever-growing list of reasons to admire and be proud of you.**_

 _ **Sir Hotch**_

By the time she reached the end of the short message, a few stray tears were running down Penelope's cheeks. When she picked up the rest of the surprise on her chair, she found herself holding a pair of official FBI tee shirts: one in navy blue with white letters, just like the one every bureau employee received upon their hiring, and another with the same logo printed on a bright pink shirt, both two sizes smaller than the one she had at home. A teary giggle shook Penelope's shoulders as she laid the special pink shirt across her desk and collapsed into her chair.

As she ran the navy shirt through her fingers, her mind wandered back to the first time she'd been given a shirt like this. It was years and years ago, and recalling it felt like looking back on another life. She'd changed so much; her physical transformation was probably the least significant of her changes over the years. Her heart swelled with pride as she remembered the thinly veiled look of distaste that had crossed Erin Strauss's face when Penelope had told her what size shirt she'd needed. During various bouts of determination over the years, she'd had fleeting ideas about someday bursting into the Section Chief's office, many pounds lighter than she'd been that day, and demanding a smaller tee shirt and an apology. Now, though, looking down at the special pink shirt covering her keyboard, a token of her success given to her by someone who cared about her, she smiled. This was so much better.

She was happy, she was healthy, and she felt absolutely, indisputably beautiful, and best of all, she knew she'd earned the right to feel that way.

And she'd even done it without losing her curves.


End file.
